


Swallow Me, Ground

by jenish (phizzle)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-04
Updated: 2005-12-04
Packaged: 2017-10-08 01:49:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/71449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phizzle/pseuds/jenish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For nora1980. Beta by nifty_geek.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Swallow Me, Ground

**Author's Note:**

> For nora1980. Beta by nifty_geek.

It's one of the great misnomers that when you become a professional actor, you get an easy ride. What exactly, Dom wonders in the shower after what feels like the longest day in the existence of days, is easy about getting up at four in the morning to get prosthetic feet and ears stuck on, followed by a wig and make-up and hobbit costume, _and then_ waiting on set with little-to-no breakfast inside you until you're needed? At which point, Merry takes over and Dom hides and wishes he could have eaten more that morning as he's sure the boom will pick up the sound of his stomach rumbling.

Well, Merry's meant to be hungry, so perhaps it's all for the good of the character. No pain, no gain. Pain is temporary, film is forever, thanks Pete.

The truth is, of course, Dom wouldn't swap this for the world. It's all made that much easier by the other hobbits. This job is far better than any other job Dom's had, without a doubt. This job, among other people and opportunities, has the advantage of Billy.

Not that Billy presents an opportunity – or rather, he does, but not quite the one Dom would like him to present. They've known each other for nearly a year now, and if there is one thing Dom's sure of, it's that they will be friends for a long, long time. Something about them just _clicks_, almost audible when they slot into the grooves of each other's conversation and humour. Like a jigsaw puzzle. Like every double act Dom's laughed at until he cried. He knows they're funny together, and he also knows he can say just about anything to Billy and he'll get it. Even more valuably, he'll keep it to himself.

If there's one thing Billy is, it's a good friend.

If there's one thing Billy doesn't show a single sign of (and Dom should know, he's looked), it's attraction to Dom.

If there's one thing that fills the backs of Dom's eyelids last thing at night and first thing in the morning, it's attraction to Billy.

But he's had a year, nearly, to get used to fancying his best friend and not having it returned. It's okay. Something to think about late at night, remembering all the things Billy said and did that day, the way he moved, how the colour of his eyes changed. _It doesn't have to be returned,_ he reasons, _it's nice to have that thrill when his hand brushes against mine._ Sometimes, he even has himself convinced.

Dom cradles the remote, hair still damp from the shower, wearing just his shorts. Almost time for bed, but first, the ancient male tradition of the channel-hop. _Nope. Nope. …**Ew.** Nope. Nope. What the hell? Nope. Nope. Nah. Ooh, what's this? Nope. Nope. She doesn't look too happy about him humping her, look at that face. Picture of misery, poor woman. You'd never know, to hear her. …Nope. Nope. Oh hey, I haven't seen this film in years!_

He settles further down on the sofa, yawning lightly. Vague nostalgia mixes with the memories of the day, a scene half-remembered and the sound of Billy laughing at his jokes all lunch hour, and Dom falls into a doze before he quite knows he is.

The scent of Billy curls around him in half-dreams. Some level of his mind semi-conscious, Dom's hand twitches on his boxers, dipping past the waistband to rest comfortably, thumb falling off the shaft, standing to attention, fingertips just touching his balls. Lazy. Pleasant. Dom's eyelids flicker; in the dream, he's in a club, hot smoke and damp walls, faint aroma of lemon-scented cleaning products. Billy, leather trousers creaking as he wiggles against Dom, face alight with laughter.

A small appreciative noise escapes Dom's lips, and his hand curls around his cock, moving slowly. No real grip, he's only half-aware of it, but … nice. His dream-vision contracts until all he's aware of is the shape of Billy and Billy's thighs, clad so tightly in leather, moving tightly against Dom's thighs, the feel of material-covered skin on material-covered skin. Billy has his back to Dom, wriggling his arse provocatively and laughing. Dom moves his hips to the music, and is only partly aware of the sensation of his palm curled and drifting slowly-but-surely up and down.

He becomes more aware of it, sinking away out of the dream, whimpering as he tries to get back there. Marginally more awake now, Dom wraps his fingers around his cock, feeling to the whorls on the pads of his fingertips, feeling, _feeling_, and that's all he has now, all he is now. Feeling. Sound, a moan, and it sounds almost like Billy. Dom sighs, groans, moves his hand a little faster. "Billy. Mmm. Yeah," he murmurs. Shifts until his hips tilt, a sudden image of Billy on his knees in the dream-club filling his eyelids, definitely almost awake now, but no need to hurry. Dom wants to take this slowly, savour it. Another sigh lets free. "Fuck. Mmm, fuck, Billy."

"Sounds like you'd like to."

The voice, it is amused, it is rather bewildered, it is disconcertingly Scottish, it is reassuringly Billyish, it is definitely Billy, it is _coming from Dom's living room doorway_.

Dom's eyes fly open. Yes. Yes, that would be Billy, standing in his doorframe, watching him wank off and say Billy's name. While wanking. Dom blinks. Something is going to click into place any second, and his brain will unfreeze. Dom isn't quite sure he wants it to and oh fuck there it goes.

"Shit. _Shit_." Definitely one hundred per cent awake now.

Billy starts to say something, perhaps, but Dom just keeps staring at him. He feels like his eyes are too wide, his ears are too red, his hand is still down his pants, his penis is still demanding attention, his best friend is in front of him and is either about to give one hell of a piss-taking or one hell of a ruckus. Either way, Dom has no idea what's going to happen or even if time isn't standing still because it sure as hell feels like it is and why won't Billy _say something_ and why won't either of them _move_ and surely, surely, this is some horrible dream he's still in.

Billy is looking at him closely, and Dom wishes he wouldn't. He knows he should say something. Anything. Make a joke, laugh it off, offer it up, just _something_, but his higher brain functions have melted, and his lower ones are split between 'Unfinished business, when you're ready' and 'Come on, lads, let's get these higher functions working again, shall we?'; so at present, he's rather busy, but come back later or leave a message.

Billy still hasn't said anything. His face is changing, and Dom can't keep up. For the first time, Dom can't keep up. He'd panic if he had anything left to panic with.

"Oh," Billy says at last.

"O-oh?" _I didn't even know you could stammer on that word._

Billy moves forward, slowly kneeling by the sofa. Dom's whole body erupts in the deepest blush it's ever known, and he retracts his hand to rest on his chest as if he'd been burned. "Bill," he manages, soundless.

"Dom," Billy replies.

"Billy, I – didn't mean for you to see that." He debates whether to try and get swallowed by the sofa cushions or just die of embarrassment, both looking likely at this stage.

"That much is obvious." Billy's smiling, but his mouth is lopsided. It occurs to Dom that maybe it's lopsided because they're not kissing, and he's just crazy enough to do it now.

So he does. He catches Billy, one corner of his mouth with two corners of his, and presses for a moment.

Billy shifts for a better hold, and presses back.

Dom blinks. He tests, carefully, aligning their lips fully and kissing lightly; Billy kisses back, and harder.

Dom decides to risk a hand in Billy's hair. He raises his arm, and meets Billy's arm as it comes around to cup the back of his neck. Billy's fingertips rest at the nape for a moment before sliding into Dom's hair, and at this point Dom knows this has to be a dream, and if this is a dream, then there's nothing stopping him from enjoying the hell out of it. He slides both hands awkwardly around Billy's neck and into his hair, feeling the strands against his fingers, and opens his mouth.

Billy's tongue is waiting. He licks at Dom's lips, at Dom's tongue, and with a moan, Dom finds out that Billy tastes of honey and chocolate tonight, and there is an altogether more tangy-familiar taste under it, the smell of Billy made liquid. He wonders if Billy tastes like that all over.

"This is a dream," Dom breathes when they break for air, pressed together forehead to nose, "but I don't care. It's a _brilliant_ dream."

"Not a dream," Billy answers, "at least, if it is then I fell asleep somewhere on the way to your place and could be lying under my car in a ditch somewhere."

"I don't want you to be lying under your car in a ditch somewhere," Dom says, thoughtfully. "I couldn't do this if you were." And he kisses Billy again, touch and breath, hand on bare chest, oh god that feels so good, feeling, _feeling_, and oh _surely not_.

"Did you – er, you didn't just – did you?" Billy blinks at him.

"Er." Dom looks down. "Well, I was almost – you know, when you walked in …" Maybe it really is possible to die of humiliation. If so, Dom reckons he's close now.

"Almost finished?" Billy raises his eyebrows, and suddenly, everything breaks and refracts into surer light, and Dom snorts, and Billy laughs, and they're holding onto each other's shoulders for support, laughing so hard Dom's ribs ache.

His cheeks hurt. They laugh until their throats are raw, tears streaming down their faces. The last explosions rock them, dissolving into snorts and chest heaves. Dom sits up, pulling Billy onto the sofa next to him. They stay as close as skin, one arm around the other. "I should get cleaned up," Dom says.

"Never made anyone come just by kissing them before." This is a quarter lost in snorts and giggles.

"You're quite obviously dynamite in bed," Dom observes with good humour.

"Even on the sofa?"

"Well, I – erm." Dom stops.

"What?"

It comes out a mumble. "Was going to say maybe I'll get to find out." They both shift, surprisingly not uncomfortably.

"Maybe you will," Billy fills in the silence.

"Billy, what the – what the fuck?" He turns towards him, eyes open.

"An excellent question, Dom." Billy scratches his chin. "I might have fancied you for a while now."

"Might?" Dom looks quizzically at him.

"Perhaps." Billy remains evasive. Oho, then. "Maybe I've been hoping you'd make the first move. Maybe I've been … hoping you wouldn't, given that we have to work together for the next who knows how long, _and_ I would never want to make things awkward for us. You know?"

"Maybe I do know," Dom nods. "Maybe, Billy," he shifts his weight nearer to his knees, facing Billy, cupping his face with his hands, "maybe it all doesn't matter because in case you haven't noticed, I really quite fancy the pants off you."

"That might have become apparent of late, aye," Billy smiles. "Get on and kiss me, you wanker."


End file.
